We found out at the end of March 2022 that we were pregnant with our third child, due at the end of November. We are lucky to have two children already and although unplanned, after a week or so of initial shock we soon became excited at giving our two children a little sibling.
However, on June 19th when I thought I was 17 weeks along in the pregnancy, I discovered, on my own in a hospital room at 1am in the morning (my husband had to stay at home with the kids as it was the middle of the night), that our little baby had passed away at approximately 13 weeks. This is known as a missed/silent late miscarriage as I had no physical signs of loss. I was in the 2nd trimester and we’d seen the baby alive at the 12 week scan.
I went into shock and I felt ashamed that I thought I was 17 weeks – how could my body have not told me something was wrong?
Long story short, I ended up at a private London hospital as my local hospital refused to let me have surgical management, even though they’d offered it to me on diagnosis of the miscarriage.
My sweet baby was taken from me on June 23rd 2022.
We found out via genetic testing that he was a boy and we have named him Benjamin – this was the boys name we had already thought of.
So far no reason for the miscarriage has been discovered and that’s hard to process – we will probably never know why this happened. Genetic testing revealed normal chromosomes and I’m awaiting extensive second trimester loss screening results to see if clotting might be to blame.
Miscarriage does happen and it’s different for every woman and their family. It brings with it a whole host of nasty thoughts and emotions. The worst for me have been feelings of guilt/blame, shame, sorrow and, at times, rage. I can’t shake the thought that this was my fault, but I’ve read other women’s experiences, of missed miscarriages in particular, and something they’ve said about your body not wanting to give up on the pregnancy because it was still going with it, comforts me.
There will never ever be a day that I don’t think about him and I hope he knows he was so wanted. We are going to plant a tree in the garden that is currently in a pot, that blooms in November when he was due and scatter his ashes with it. I’ve also got his ashes in a ring and a few other pieces which bring me comfort that I still have him with me, and I am starting counselling next week.
Benjamin’s memory bear, with some of his ashes in the heart.